


Still Inside

by MaggieLaFey



Series: A Fine Place To Be Trapped Into [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Erotica, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Forced Orgasm, I love these two kinky babies so much, Post-Series, Romance, Spanking, healthy kink, season 10 (no knowledge of the comics needed), very, very sweet aftercare, with a paddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieLaFey/pseuds/MaggieLaFey
Summary: Sequel to Stuck Inside: Yes, Spike and Buffy are still locked inside the sex store. But now, Buffy feels like switching roles... Unsurprisingly, Spike is more than happy to give her exactly what she wants.(Which, yes, is yet more kinky sex.)Having read the comics or the previous story isn't necessary; just know that Spike and Buffy are happily together and have been magically locked into a sex store, the poor things. Guess what they've been doing?
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Series: A Fine Place To Be Trapped Into [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035948
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here comes the sequel that some of you have asked for, with sub!Buffy and Dom!Spike... expect lots of kinky, kinky porn, although mostly in the second chapter.
> 
> I gotta thank as always the ever-marvellous Bookishy for her amazing job as beta, and this time even the patient and brilliant Aspasia for her additional help! These ladies spoil me and make my writing so much better.
> 
> Thanks also go to the talented Pixiecorn for her amazing banner! Look at those colours!!
> 
> Alas, neither Spike nor Buffy are mine but belong to Joss et al. The perviness and kink ideation is all mine though.

Buffy nuzzled Spike’s chest, inhaling his scent and smiling.

She’d expected to make love to him, sweet and tender and slow, after dominating him, but they’d ended up just quietly talking instead: about what they wanted for their new apartment, about how often they expected the Scoobies to visit, about how many cats they’d bring with them and the first dinner they’d host.

(She could totally cook something nice, by the way. Spike kept making fun of her and saying that he didn’t want any bears messing up his fun, but he devoured her muffins and her casseroles with or without pouring blood on them.)

And now they were just silent, enjoying each other’s presence and basking in the closeness of one another’s bodies. Having a vamp boyfriend had _lots_ of unexpected perks, one of which was that he wasn’t uncomfortable playing her pillow, even on a floor. Not to mention the whole multiple-orgasms thing, or the ability to kneel for as long as she wanted him to without injury. Or the fact that she could keep him in a cock ring for over an hour without damaging any important bits…

She blushed as she thought of just how dark and swollen his poor penis had looked by the time she’d finally let him come. It hadn’t been a surprise that Spike liked to be dominated, but she’d never suspected _she_ would love him submitting to her.

And oh boy, did she.

She felt some stirrings down below as she remembered his desperation and his helpless sounds; as she remembered the way she'd let herself go enough to egg him on, the way his submission had only made her wetter and wetter… She pushed her face against his chest, feeling herself grow warm all over.

“Mmm. Someone’s having naughty thoughts,” Spike murmured, the low, rumbly sound of his voice sending a shiver down her body and somehow reaching between her legs.

And suddenly, she wasn’t thinking of him on his hands and knees; she was thinking of herself, arms bound as he rolled her around on the bed from one position to the next, telling her with his rumbly, commanding voice that she was his to do with as he pleased, to use for his pleasure, his his his…

She shivered again, harder, and squeezed her thighs.

The jerk with the best freaking voice in the world just chuckled. “Care to share with the class, pet?” he said silkily, his finger tracing her earlobe so delicately that she barely felt it, making her crave more.

“Uh,” she almost panted against his chest. The words had invoked the sudden image of Spike as a teacher, telling her she was a bad student who needed to be punished... Then she mentally slapped herself, because really, panting already? Like hell. So she raised her head and sent him the fiercest glare she could muster. “If you want to know, I was thinking about the last time we played reversed roles.” So maybe her face flushing ruined the stern effect, but it wasn’t like she could help it. 

Spike groaned, the sound reverberating through her breasts, and she resisted the urge to shiver again. “Oh, love. If you’ve got a hankering for switching, ’m more than available.”

She raised a brow as she pushed herself up, forearms planted on his chest. “Oh, really? Because you seemed pretty happy to beg me a while ago.”

Spike growled low in his chest. “Careful, little girl,” he said with a rumbly voice that went straight to her clit. His hands circled her upper arms, still gentle but a clear sign that he could grasp her at any moment. “If you want to play, you should get ready to listen to the one who’s giving the orders-- _me_.”

Yeah, she mostly liked to be the one giving the orders, but, God, it was hot to see the opposite too. And she _loved_ to rile him up and see where he’d go for a punishment; so she just smirked and tilted her head. “Have you been thinking about something interesting, Spikey?”

“You have no idea,” he whispered, grinning lasciviously as he let his eyes wander down to her breasts. “But love, if you wanna try something in particular, ’m always ready to hear suggestions.”

The leer didn’t completely leave his eyes, but she could tell it was an honest question, too, so she bent down to kiss his chest once, twice, three times.

“I was thinking… that I’d like to try… candle wax,” she said before licking his nipple once.

He shivered, his eyes flaring . “Sounds like very good fun. Could get you different colours and scents… make your skin a canvas. You’re a work of art already, but wouldn’t mind discovering what I could add to the pretty picture of your skin,” he murmured, one hand sliding to touch her chest.

She sighed happily. Her smitten, smitten vamp.

She moved her hair to fall over one shoulder and let it slide on his chest for a couple of seconds, before bending to kiss him there again. “What about you, Spike?” she asked, her lips tracing his pectoral. “Do you have anything you’d like to try?”

Spike sighed deeply, one hand going to caress her hair while the other grazed her breast with the back of his fingers. “’Ve been entertaining a fantasy for a while now…” 

When he stopped talking, Buffy paused in her kissing to look at him. He pouted, arching up just enough to bring his chest back to her lips. She snorted and kissed him again.

“Well,” he said slowly, his hands getting even more delicate. “Was thinking I wouldn’t mind seeing you in one of those skimpy outfits you wore when you were younger, lil’ Slayer that you were, all perky and far too hot for your age.”

Buffy grinned, her nails gently scraping his flanks before she shifted over him. “Want to be a naughty vamp that I have to punish?”

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling hard, then opened them to look at her hungrily. “That’d be fucking hot too, yeah. But no, was thinking more on the lines of you being the one on the receiving end.” 

Buffy raised her brows, amused, and he grinned self-consciously. 

“See,” he said, “you’d be a right naughty slayer, flaunting your ass to any demon walking around the cemetery, with your skimpy tops and tiny skirts and crotchless panties”--Buffy couldn’t help an eyeroll at that, but when Spike sent her a fiery look, she gestured at him to continue--“and well, the Council would send a _very strict_ watcher… someone with a firm hand, to punish you good and proper for your bad, bad conduct…”

Buffy shuddered at the image his low voice was painting. But something didn’t sit right. “That sounds pretty hot. But…”

Spike sighed. “But the whole watcher thing. Yeah, I know,” he said. Then he grinned, one thumb going to trace her lower lip. “But the idea gets you hot, Slayer, admit it.” When she felt herself blush, his grin widened. “Yeah. Thought so. Being told you’re a bad girl, in need of some good old-fashioned punishment, rebellious little thing to be brought back to order…” 

Buffy felt ashamed at the little whimper that left her lips, but then again, she couldn’t help it. Especially because Spike was starting to breathe just a little bit faster. 

“Maybe you could be someone hired especially for this job,” Buffy said, voice low and husky. She was trying to think of ways they could experience this fantasy without it going in the icky direction of her _real_ experience with watchers. Because _that_ was a level of kink she wasn’t ever going to explore.

“Yeah,” Spike nodded eagerly, “someone from a special force, meant just for bad little girls like you.” He grinned when her heart started to beat faster. “‘Special Slayer Punishing Division’, what do you think?”

She let out a little breathless giggle, happy--and a little bit surprised--that the weird name didn't lessen her arousal. “I think,” she said, bending down to his nipple and keeping her eyes on his. “That I’d give you a _lot_ of trouble, and that I’d need a really, really firm hand.” Grinning, she bit his nipple hard.

He jerked and grunted, his hands going to grasp her upper arms before he grinned too. “Oh, you’re gonna get it, little girl.”

Even though she didn't say anything, she knew her excitement was plain.

The truth was that it wasn’t all that usual, this reversal of roles; mostly, she was the dominating force between them sexually, both when they ‘simply’ made love and when they played these games. But it did happen every once in a while, and every time she ended up loving it.

She shifted up, bringing her mouth to his neck, and started nibbling all around his sensitive siring spot. Ultimately, she loved any and all things the two of them did in bed. Yeah, sometimes things didn’t work out; but they never really let it affect the mood or the moment.

They just _fit_. Every time she thought too much about it, she still got scared that it was too good to last; but then she remembered how hard they’d fought for this, and she told that fear to go to hell.

As she sucked harder at his siring mark, she enjoyed the full-body shiver that wracked his body, the power she had to affect him so deeply with just a little act. He stroked her head and pressed her face harder to his neck, and she took the hint.

“Oh, fuck, love,” he moaned, his hand sliding down her back until he was fondling her ass, making her rock gently against his hip. “Harder, baby,” he whispered, and she complied. His moan came louder, just as his fingers shifted between her ass cheeks to tease her. “You goddess,” he muttered, one hand threading through her hair to cradle her head as the other started to stroke right along the skin behind her pussy, making her shiver with pleasure. “You gorgeous, beautiful, fucking perfect woman… _ngh_ , yess.”

She straddled his hip, grinding into it, her thigh moving back and forth over his hard dick and making him groan. God, her vampire was hot.

He started whispering, _yes_ , _more_ , _harder_ , and then _my love_ , _my goddess_ , _my Slayer_ , _mine mine mine_ , every word sending flashes of bliss down her body to her clit, and Buffy got harsher in her movements, grinding harder and harder. One hand gripping his shoulder for balance, she snaked the other down to his cock, feeling it warmed by her leg. 

Her hand started to tug at his dick then, pressing it against her thigh and stroking up and down, twisting it at the head as she bit down again on his siring mark. Spike made a sound close to a whine as her hand moved faster, her hips crashing harder against his as she got hotter and closer. God, the way he shifted underneath her, trying to jut his hip out in time with her thrusts, trying to get her off even though she knew just how much her mouth and hand were affecting him. 

He was panting hard, groaning with every other breath, making little impatient noises every time she moaned, his cock leaking on her fingers. And all along, he kept trying to make her come, his fingers rubbing madly at the sensitive skin around her entrance, seeking her orgasm just as she sought his.

They kept chasing each other’s climaxes until his noises and movements suddenly sent her over the edge. She shuddered above him, her body on fire. She bit him hard enough to make him yell, but he kept thrusting up again and again, making her orgasm last what felt like hours, until her hand managed to squeeze him to orgasm too. 

They kept stroking each other as they came down, breathing heavily against each other’s skin, and then she let out a breathless chuckle. He did the same, nuzzling her hair, her temple, her face.

When she kissed him he was still smiling, his hands roaming her back and her ass. She shivered as he spread her wetness on her skin.

“Just let me know when you want to play, and I can make it happen, baby.”

She laughed again, kissing him once more before leaning back. “What about right now, right here?”

He blinked up in surprise. “Really?”

She shrugged. “Why not? There's plenty of time left to talk about it, and then even more to play.” Her grin softened. “That is, if you feel like switching roles. I’m ok browsing the store and talking about nothing, too.”

His face lit up in awe, even after two years together, making her heart flutter. “You’re the perfect woman, you know that.”

“There’s this guy who keeps saying that, yeah…”

“Oi!”

She squealed when he tickled her sides, laughing before she gripped his wrists and planted them on the ground.

He raised his brows at her, amused. “Sure you don’t need more time to get in the zone, Slayer? Hardly look ready to play the part.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, sweetie,” she said, leaning down with a grin. “I’m gonna fight back. You up for the challenge of a bad, bad Slayer?”

When he freed his wrists to grasp her face and kiss her passionately, she laughed against his mouth.

She’d allow it, for the moment. After all, it wasn’t like she had any problem with lips of Spike; not anymore, not for a long time now.

And then, after a little more talk, they’d finally start playing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know whether you think this sounds interesting. ;)
> 
> And an important note: my brilliant beta Aspasia has let me know that the candles used for wax play are specific ones, with a low melting point that doesn't injure human skin. Because of this, they don't actually have scents or perfumes because it might change the melting point! I don't think Spike or Buffy would know any of this, but it definitely needed to be said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike are finally ready for their roleplay.  
> This was DEFINITELY a convenient place to get stuck into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A line here is a homage to the uber-sexy Aloof Rocker Kryptonite by JustTiff. It’s a WIP, but it ends in a good place!  
> Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter, and to TheDanishBird and Aspasia for inspiring this one with their suggestions. And again to the brilliant Bookishy and Aspasia for beta-reading this! ♥  
> I love any kind of feedback, criticism included. Go nuts, if you’re so inclined, and happy reading. >:)

Buffy took a deep breath, looking at herself in the tiny mirror of the store toilet. She’d redone her makeup, adding eyeliner and more lipstick—it had faded at some point, probably giving Spike’s penis a bit of its colour—to play the bad girl.

Just thinking of the words sent a little shudder down her spine, making her fingers tingle. After talking more to ensure nothing would make her think of her own Watcher, they’d decided to get dressed separately, so they could better sink into their parts.

She swallowed as she looked down at herself, blushing already. She’d definitely found the right clothes to go with his fantasy. She looked _hot_. She’d found a tiny little top, blood-red, that barely covered her boobs and let a bit of bra peek through; a pleated black-and-red skirt, so short it barely covered her ass while standing, let alone if she bent an inch; and then she wore her own chunky-heeled ankle boots. The stupidly small mirror didn’t let her check her full figure, but she _knew_ she looked edible, and that Spike would have a hard time keeping his composure.

Which was perfectly fine by her. When they'd talked about her playing a brat, about her goading him into really giving it to her, he’d growled, looking one second from biting her and jumping her then and there. But then he’d smirked, licked his lips in that wildly sexy way of his, and told her that he’d enjoy punishing her hard enough to make her submit to him.

She bit her lip, feeling wetness already slither past her folds. God, should she wipe herself clean again? She’d gone with his stupid suggestion and picked a pair of crotchless panties, and yeah, while _no_ slayer would ever go patrolling in this ridiculous get-up, it was beyond sexy for roleplaying. 

She reached towards the toilet paper, then paused; a slutty slayer would get hot during patrol, right? The fact that she was one dirty thought away from wetting her thighs worked just fine for the scene.

 _‘A slutty slayer’, yeah_ , a sarcastic, British-sounding voice said. _As if you didn’t get wet every time you go out there._

Buffy bit her lip some more, then took another deep breath and flipped her hair back. She was an adult woman, and it was totally fine to get hot when fighting. In fact, it was more than fine! It was her damn right as a slayer.

She latched onto that thought, which fit her role perfectly. Really, she was a powerful woman: how could she not be affected by her strength over vamps and demons? It made her thrill, sending shivers of anticipation for the fight and the win down her spine, making her quiver with the sense of control it gave her to _win_ , over and over again, to best her opponents. Of course it’d make her eager to blow off steam, and of course she’d love wearing impractical clothes while doing so; it only highlighted the way she was, in the end, better than the monsters.

Plus, it was just fun to see the vamps’ eyes widen every time she gave a high kick.

Her face flushed, not needing to do much imagining there. It had only happened on recent patrols, no more than three times, but it had always driven Spike completely wild—especially because he was the reason she'd been pantiless in the first place.

So yeah, she was wearing crotchless lace panties, a gravity-defying push-up bra, and a grin of over-confidence. She was ready.

*

Raising her chin, she opened the door and sauntered in, looking at the sex toys around her and ignoring the tingle that screamed _vampire!_ coming from behind the counter.

“Neat place,” she said airily. 

“You’re late.” The vampire’s voice was low, rumbly, and not amused. 

She ignored the shiver of pleasure that trailed up and down her body and continued to saunter around the place, without looking in his direction. “I had better things to do,” she said, grinning. “Say, that looks fun…” She’d found a particularly huge dildo. It looked scary, but she had to wonder whether Spike would like it up his—

The vampire growled and she grinned over her shoulder. He was sitting behind the counter and wearing a soft-looking black leather coat over a red shirt, a deliciously bad-boy combo when coupled with his bleached hair. Face and shoulders tight with tension, he clasped his hands in front of him, visibly working hard to keep his demon down. 

“Someone’s cranky,” she sing-songed. 

“Someone wants to get punished even more,” he said darkly, eyeing her with considerable hunger. “You’re clearly hellbent on defying the rules of the Council. You know why you’ve been called here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, turning her attention back to the toys. “You’re a special division of the Council. Special Slayer Punishing Division, and let me tell you how much I’m quaking in my boots at _that_ name.”

“No, I can tell the quaking is happening somewhere else entirely.”

She turned to look at him then, affronted, but he was smirking. The jerk. “Look, I know who you are. A vampire restricted through magic by the Council, chosen specifically for this division.” (This part she’d wanted herself, because she loved the idea of him punishing her for being a bad slayer with his fangs.) “But that magic makes you harmless, so why don’t you—”

“Oh, no,” he interrupted her with a purr. She swallowed as he stood and circled the counter, his eyes never leaving her. “It only stops me from killing you, but I can hurt you plenty. In fact, that’s the very reason I’m here.”

He stopped in front of her, close enough to make her legs feel unsteady, but she smirked in defiance.

“And what makes you think I’ll let you lay a hand on me?”

“The magic, of course,” he rumbled, leaning forward, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled her scent, and God if that wasn’t hot. “Same magic that stops me from killing you is stopping you from leaving and from killing me, little girl. You know that.”

“Name’s Buffy, and I’m not a little girl,” she spat back, raising a hand—but he stopped it before her blow could reach his cheek, his grip tight.

“Uh-uh-uh,” he said with a lewd smirk. “You’re exactly that, kitten. A bad little girl who needs to be taught the error of her ways.”

 _Fuck_ , but he made that stupid line sound lava-hot. She had to swallow again before she could muster enough strength to get back in her role. “And you’re what, the vamp who’s gonna teach me how to behave?”

He chuckled darkly and then, in a sudden movement, he’d grasped her other wrist and was twisting both of her arms behind her back, making her arch against him, her breasts pressing against his hard chest. “Name’s Spike, and that’s exactly right,” he said, leaning down to breathe in her face. “May not know much about proper behaviour, but I do know about punishment.”

Every nerve ending in her body was screaming, from the ones in her wrists and arms to wherever her body touched his. His shirt buttons scraped against the skin of her belly as she squirmed in his grasp.

“Tell me you’re not enjoying it, you bad girl,” he growled, his hungry blue eyes making it hard not to whimper. “Tell me you don’t love the idea of being punished by the likes of me, on order of the Council, for being a bad, bad slayer.”

She did let out a little sound of choked pleasure then, her hips grinding against his. She felt a spark of triumph when he gasped at the contact. “I’m not the one who’s enjoying this,” she whispered, pressing against his hard shaft through his jeans.

He barked out a laugh and thrust back, hard, touching her clit through the pleats of her skirt, and she let out a whimper. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy every second of this,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and hungry, his eyes roaming her face. “You, on the other hand, are just giving me more reasons to go hard on you.”

He growled, gave a particularly harsh thrust, and then twirled around her to grip her wrists and force her towards the counter. She started breathing hard then, the thrill of him overpowering her making her limbs feel jelly-like and trembly.

“What are you gonna do?” she gasped as he bent her harshly over the glass surface, squishing her breasts against it. “Spank me?”

“Among other things,” the vampire said, voice low and dangerous. “Look at you,” he chuckled darkly as he tugged her forearms straight. “Practically naked and already wet, pussy salivating at me.”

Buffy whimpered, the crude words making her feel impossibly hot and impossibly bad. “You pig— _ah_!” she yelped when his hand spanked her hard out of the blue.

“Silence, little girl,” he said, and when she looked over her shoulder, he was grinning gleefully. “Gonna teach you some good manners.”

“Thought you didn’t know about those— _nnh_!” she grunted when he slapped her other cheek even harder, making her ass feel on fire.

“Keep this up and I’ll have to find you a nice gag,” he said, and God, she could still hear the grin. 

He bent down and she could hear the noise of something rustling against his clothes. Soon, he was tying her forearms and wrists together with what felt like chains, locking them behind her back. 

“What about a nice little cock-shaped gag, mm?” he whispered in her ear, making her shudder and whimper as she squirmed beneath him, the words and the image they evoked making her flush. “Red lips stretched around a nice, fat cock… you telling me you wouldn’t love that?” he said, and her heartbeat skyrocketed when she heard him vamping out behind her, his fang grazing the shell of her ear as she squeezed her eyes shut. “You telling me this mouth isn’t as starved for cock as this wet pussy”—he caressed her between her legs, making her spasm beneath him as he groaned—“Christ, you’re fucking dirty, all open like this to the world—”

“Oh, S-Spi— _aah_!”

Spike had leaned back for a moment, just enough to deliver two savage blows to her ass, and she shuddered beneath him, legs squirming as she clenched down on nothing.

He bent down again to whisper roughly in her ear. “Are you green, little girl?”

She nodded quickly, just the idea of pausing this making her frantic.

“Good,” he said, straightening up and hitting her once more, just as hard. “Then that’s ‘Sir’ to you,” he said, his commanding tone sending a shiver all through her body. 

Then he spanked her again, and again, until the pain and the burn made her pussy feel on fire. The chains binding her arms squeezed her flesh with delicious tightness, that pain adding to the rest, all seemingly linked directly to her clit.

“Look at the pretty sight you make,” he murmured, his hands stroking her lower cheeks gently before he raked at them with his nails, the sharp sting drawing a helpless sound from her lips. He chuckled, patting her flesh lightly. “Didn’t even have to flip up your skirt, it’s so short,” he said, but then he did just that, the chilled air touching the top of her ass and making her inhale hard. “Now that looks good… spread these golden legs, my bad girl.”

“Make me,” she said in a trembling voice, but he only laughed again. And then she heard some more rustling. “ _Aanh_!” she yelled, a stinging pain making her jump up in surprise. He’d hit her with a freaking leather paddle.

 _God, he’s_ really _not sparing the strength here_ , she managed to think before he hit her again, and again and again, the smacking sounds making her moan in pain as well as pleasure, the burn zapping to her clenching pussy every time.

“As you wish,” her tormentor said, far too smug as he delivered hard blows to her ass.

“Oh, oh, _uuhn_ ,” she moaned, squirming desperately—until his hand gripped her wrist through the chains, making them dig into her skin more.

“So are you”— _smack!_ —“going to”— _smack!_ —“behave”— _smack, smack!_ —“you bad, bad Slayer?”

“ _Aaah_! Y-yes!” she gasped, her screaming bottom only adding to the already hopeless pulsing of her clit. She’d started to subconsciously rock against the blows, not knowing if she wanted to get more of that damn paddle or just some friction against the counter.

“Mmm, don’t think I heard that, pet.” _Smack, smack, smack!_ “Think you need a magic word there.”

“Oh God, oh God—” _Smack!_ “Please, Sir!”

The vampire chuckled, scraping the edge of the paddle against her burning skin and making her fingers clench hard against the chains that locked her wrists.

“Knew I could get you to say it,” he purred as the paddle left her skin.

She let out a shuddering breath, surprising herself with how much she missed its touch—and then he was gripping her burning flesh, the handle digging into her skin almost as much as his nails, forcing a gasp and a whimper from her parted lips as her clit pulsed and pulsed.

“So are you tamed?” he whispered, leaning down close to her right ear while his left hand kept dragging his nails on her skin. “Are you going to accept your punishment, thanking me for your discipline?”

Buffy let out a small wail at that, pressing her forehead against the glass of the counter as his fingertips razed her wet lips.

“Uhn… _uhn_ …”

She could feel his fang tracing her neck, up to her earlobe, making her shudder in want.

“Still green, kitten?” he whispered, nipping at the soft flesh of her lobe.

She nodded immediately, then turned her head to send him a scalding look. Her heart skipped a beat at the mix of hunger and care in his eyes. She grinned. “All green, Mr. Punisher, Sir,” she said, delighted by the flare of pleasure and pride in his eyes.

“Are you, now,” he drawled, all softness gone as he narrowed his eyes. Then he clenched her ass hard, and she whimpered as she could feel wetness there; he must have drawn blood this time. “Because I seem to remember telling you to open these dirty, dirty legs, Slayer. And you’re still not obeying.”

This time she caved, spreading her legs wider as his hand left her skin—but then he smacked her hard, again and again and again.

“Now lookit that,” he murmured, licking a stripe from shoulder to ear even as he kept raining blows on her burning bottom. “Are you listening to your superior now, you bad girl?” 

She moaned, nodding helplessly as she widened her legs even more. But the only thing she really wanted to do was squeeze them to get any sort of stimulation on her poor pussy and clit. 

“Yeah, you are,” he whispered in her ear, licking around it and making her head spin. “You’re starting to submit, aren’t you.” 

“Uhh, uuhn…” It was official. Her brain had left the premises. Not that she could blame it, really, because honestly the only part of her body she could care about right now was much further south. “Ah!” Except for her earlobe, apparently, when he bit it fiercely enough to draw blood.

As he sucked hard at it, she couldn’t rein in a wail.

“Love the way you sound, you dirty girl,” he murmured in her ear. Then he straightened and smacked her burning bottom once more. “Wider, bad little Slayer.”

She whined, trying her best to comply even though her legs trembled. 

He tutted at her before chuckling, the sound going straight to her clit. “You make a right fetching picture like this, kitten. Using your red skin as a canvas, that’s what I’m doing.”

She blinked her eyes open, craning her neck to stare at him. What the hell did he mean?

He must’ve seen a bit of defiance in her gaze, because he smacked her again, twice, hard and fast. “I’m sorry… Sir,” she said, gritting her teeth against the need to arch against the counter, against anything, _anything_ , to get some relief.

Eyes flaring, he licked his lips, and Buffy had to wonder whether she’d submitted too soon. But his voice, his dominance, his damn paddle… it was all too damn hot, too damn much, for her to keep resisting.

So she tried for her best submissive expression: looking down and keeping her voice low, she forced her legs a little bit wider. “I meant to ask… Sir. What did you mean by that?”

There. Minimum stuttering, maximum submission. She risked looking up for a second, just in time to see his damnable tongue touch his teeth in delight.

“Mean that I wish I had a camera to keep this for posterity, you bad minx.” His eyebrows wiggled and he casually spanked her again with the paddle, making her gasp and fight the urge to close her thighs. “Mmh… oh yeah,” he said, admiring his handiwork before smacking her again, this time on the inside of her other thigh.

“Ohh, God,” she whined, her legs trembling hard.

“Think you might need some help to obey, don’t you?” he said slyly, dragging the paddle from her burning inner thigh up, up, until he was grazing her lips, and God God God she couldn’t, she _couldn’t_ —

“Oh, oh, _please_ ,” she begged when he started to finally, _finally_ stroke her pussy lips. The paddle was too rough and his movements too slow, but her legs tried to squeeze it between them anyway. God, to finally have something, anything—“No! Please, please don’t stop, _nnaa_ ,” she moaned, gasping when he hit her again, the pain somehow sharper where the paddle was wet.

“Oh yeah, you definitely need some help, you bad little girl,” he whispered, making her concentrate on getting her legs back to their wider position. When she was trembling too hard to manage, he bent down to bite her on the shoulder, hard. He’d lost the fangs but she gasped anyway, blinking when he left the paddle on the counter in order to bend down behind her. It was black, but there was a red writing on it… she groaned, the sound hard and low. The blocky letters on it spelled BAD GIRL.

“Like what you see?” the vampire chuckled from next to her knees.

Buffy couldn’t believe how much she actually did wish that he had a camera, just so she could see if the letters were visible on her skin. Had her tormentor actually made her butt into a declaration?

The vampire started caressing her calf, making her skin shiver and tingle. She let out a little moan when he licked the back of her knees.

“Can taste your sweat, your lust, your sheer essence,” he murmured against her skin, making her shiver harder. “Gonna give you just what you deserve… gonna help you be a good girl, kitten,” he said, before biting her hard on the thigh. He must’ve picked a place he’d hit with the paddle, because his blunt teeth burned on her hot skin, and she moaned again. “Now spread these beauties wide, you dirty wench,” he said, and Buffy could hear the gleeful grin as she tried her best to comply.

He chuckled again as he opened them even more, making her pussy feel even emptier.

“God… _nnh_!”

He let out another laugh at her grunt when he tightened some sort of leather-feeling strap around her upper knee, patting her rump roughly before switching to do the same on the other. And then, when he finally stood up, dragging his hands to cup her ass cheeks with the motion, she realised that she couldn’t move her legs anymore: there was something between them, something that made it impossible for her to either close them or open them more.

“Oh God,” she murmured in a low tone that sounded nothing like a slayer.

The vampire, meanwhile, plastered himself against her back, his hard denim-covered cock rubbing her sore skin and making it burn.

He breathed against her hair, the weight of his chest pressing her arms between them, and inhaled hard before letting out a small, dark chuckle. “Know what I’ve put between these lovely, dirty legs, little slayer?” She squirmed beneath him, but he only thrust harder, silencing her. “Called a spreader bar, it is, you filthy girl,” he whispered, his rough voice making her head spin as he found a scorching rhythm against her poor bottom. “Gonna help you keep all wide and spread for your master. What do you say about that, huh?”

She wanted to whimper, she could feel the need rising. But a flicker of defiance was still burning in her gut, telling her to fight back, to make him work for her submission; the Slayer wasn’t out yet, no _sir_.

“I say…” she started, her voice thready despite her wishes, “that you should know you’re gonna have to try harder than that.” And then she turned, grinning wickedly when he saw his eyes widen and his nostrils flare.

And then the jerk _laughed_ , which didn’t really soothe her Slayer pride. Digging his nails into her still-stinging flesh, he used the grip to thrust her against his hard cock, again and again, forcing little breathless gasps from her mouth as she tried to fight him when all she wanted was more.

“You bad—dirty—little girl,” he grunted in her ear, tilting his hips just so to hit her clit at every thrust.

She finally whimpered. “Oh God—oh—nnrm, uhn, uuhh!”

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered as she felt him vamp out and nip at her neck, making her eyes squeeze shut in anticipation. “You love being punished, don’t you? You’re—gonna— _get it._ ”

“Aahhnn!” she yelled as he gave one powerful, merciless thrust against her, throwing her almost over the precipice—but then he retreated, making her thrust back into thin air. She moaned at the loss. “No, please, more—”

“Oh, you’ll get more punishment all right,” he muttered, and she could hear the frantic rustle of his clothes. “Gonna paint your arse in come and then show you just how good those smacks are once you’re all—wet— _nnh_ ,” he grunted, one of his hands squeezing the chain around her wrists to keep her still. 

She still squirmed, wild need making her clit pulse and pulse. It pulsed harder still when she heard the sound of his hand working his cock, and God, she wanted it, she wanted it— 

“Nh, nh, uhn, _fuck_!” he grunted, the sound and the feel of his come on her sending a shiver down her spine.

She almost sobbed when she felt it dribble down on her stinging skin, and God, who knew she’d ever get to this? Role-playing a bad slayer in need of punishment, and that punishment coming—pun definitely intended—in the form of a vampire covering her in come after having almost brought her off.

She tried vainly to squeeze her thighs shut, but the bar between her knees made it impossible. And even that was hot, how she could try and try and yet still do nothing but wait for his punishment.

“God,” she breathed out, trembling when he chuckled again.

“Look at you, all indecently spread and wet.”

She squirmed, trying to close her legs again against her better sense.

“But I’m gonna get you even wetter, I am,” he purred, finally closing the distance between them and oh God, his dick was touching her and she could feel him already hardening. “Gonna use these sweet, drenched lips to get me hard,” he said, dragging his cock back and forth against her pussy, making her whole body spasm at the return of stimulation. “Then I’m gonna come on your arse again,” he grunted, his movements quickening and his voice getting lower, even as his damn dick managed to miss her clit entirely. “Then I’m gonna take this lovely juice you’re spreading for me—ffrnn—get it all over this lovely— _nnh_ —rump, and thighs—uunn _yeah_ —and then—”

“Oh God,” she whimpered, his words and the images he was painting making her careen towards an orgasm, clit stimulation or not. “Oh fuck—aaah!” she yelled, as he spanked her thigh hard, and then again, harder still.

“Bad girl,” he grunted, thrusting harder against her before shifting back—and then—

“Oh fuck,” she sobbed as he finally entered her, hard and deep and fast, making her press against the counter so she could thrust her ass against him. “Please, God, please!”

“Name ain’t God,” he grunted, pumping savagely against her as he stretched over her to pick up the paddle. “Say it!” he ordered, starting to rain blows on her left thigh without ever pausing his thrusts.

“Sir, Sir, pleaseennnh!”

“Fuck, you tight little wench, squeeze me so good. Nnnh, nrm, _nh_ , harder!” _Smack, smack, smack_ , and she complied. “Oh yeah,” he groaned between strikes, and then he bent over her, one hand wrapping in her hair to wrench her head to the side. “This is punishment, you dirty, bad girl,” he grunted in her ear.

“Ohh _Sir_ ,” she whined, clenching harder against him, getting closer still.

“So don’t you—fucking—dare come,” he grunted, before giving a low growl and biting her neck, fangs slicing in her skin, mouth sucking at her hard.

She went wild beneath him, the words a shock to her still-untouched clit, the bite making her eyes roll back in her head as she came and came and came, the waves crashing over her so hard she could hardly push back to seek more.

Spike growled into her flesh, thrusting hard another few frenzied times, before he let go of her neck to roar and shove out of her, the spurts of his come on her abused ass making her pulse again and again. And all along she kept coming, her every inch burning in pleasure and pain.

Finally, he grunted, his chest slumping against her back. She could feel his clothes were still on, his coat flapping either side of her, while she was practically naked and spread open; it made everything all the more illicit and obscene.

God, it didn’t happen often, but she _really_ loved him overpowering her.

She luxuriated in the feeling as best she could. His weight made the chains bite into the skin of her back, yet somehow that only made her clit pulse harder, even as the last of her orgasm flowed through her.

He sighed then, bending his head to lick at her still-bleeding bite mark with long, firm strokes of his tongue. She shivered, wondering for the millionth time whether she really was a bad slayer for loving his fangs on her neck so much. And then the thought made her clench, and really, who cared?

His low chuckle against her skin sent a thrill through her, even as he shifted to relieve her of some weight. She sighed, recognising the little acts of comfort in that and in his tongue wiping her clean. 

_I love this so much—I love_ him _so much. He’s always got my back, no matter what we do._

“Look at you, sighing all pleasantly when you’ve disobeyed my orders,” he said, his husky voice making her pussy flutter.

She trembled and clenched, wondering whether this was her own, deranged empty-pussy-clenching version of a Pavlovian response. 

“You really are a bad slayer who needs punishment,” he whispered silkily, his lips brushing her ear and making her tremble harder. “Unless,” he murmured, licking along her shell and making her gasp as he thrust against her, his swelling cock pressing on her tingling skin. “Unless you want to tell me you’re not feeling green anymore, little girl?”

She stifled a moan, pressing her forehead to the counter glass. For a second, she thought she heard a hint of taunting in his voice, and wondered whether she’d disappoint him if she stopped the scene. Would he tsk at her, see it as a letdown that she’d leave him dissatisfied?

Then she remembered that this was really Spike, not some random vamp tormentor hired by the Council. Yeah, he loved to challenge her, but he wouldn't respect, love, or admire her any less if she wanted to end the scene here.

And ultimately, that was what rekindled the fire in her, what made her take another, showy deep sigh and grin back at him. “It takes more than that to make a slayer submit, vamp. So why don’t you give it to me? I was promised a _punishment_.”

She almost regretted the words by the way his eyes and nostrils flared, the way his wicked grin made him look positively devilish. He laughed before licking at her sore skin then biting, his blunt teeth drawing a gasp.

“Gonna love making you beg,” he murmured, his teeth scraping her throbbing skin, “until all you can do is tell me you deserve to be punished, over and over again.”

The words sent her pussy into a frenzy. She already felt the urge to submit… but what else would he come up with, if she kept defying him?

“Promises, promises,” she breathed out, her voice weaker than she would’ve liked. But then his cock twitched against her and, well, she couldn’t blame herself that much.

He laughed again, biting her one more time before he rose, the absence of his weight filling her with both physical relief and a sense of loss.

And then he was picking up the paddle again while he spanked her hard with his free hand. “Get this ass up, you filthy girl.”

“ _Nnh_ ,” she grunted, trying and failing to arch her back.

He took that as an invitation to go harder, the _smack-smack-smack_ sounds making her clench uselessly as she kept trying to push her ass higher.

“S-Sirnn,” she moaned, his blows coming even harder. “I c-can’t, it’s too—uhn!”

“Too high, you mean?” he asked, almost nonchalant—the stupid jerk—before stopping his hand for a moment. “Then why don’t you get up on your toes, make this arse good and tense for your punishment?”

_SMACK!_

“Rrrnn,” she grunted as the paddle hit her between thigh and ass cheek, making her see stars. She did her best to obey, lifting herself on her tippy toes. “Aah!”

He hit her again, on the same sensitive spot on her other leg, and she tried to go as far up as she could.

“Better,” he said with an audible grin. “Now thank me for your punishment, you bad Slayer.”

She felt her whole body quiver at the idea, but no, she wasn’t there yet; she still wanted to see how far she could push him. “N-no… thank you, Suuurn!”

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_ , the paddle went, now on the crease of her buttocks and her thighs, and she had to fight hard against the instinct to escape it—or arch up more to meet it.

“Let’s try again, shall we?” he said, with the hint of a growl. Then he wrapped his right hand in her hair and pulled, making her neck crane back painfully. “I’m gonna give you one very special blow, and if you make any sound other than thanking me for your punishment, I’m gonna give you another three. That clear, you dirty little girl?”

Buffy squirmed beneath him, the will to fight back warring with the urge to just submit already. She only managed to nod as she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact, trying to relax her back even as she struggled to keep her ass arched up—

 _THWACK_!

She yelled as the paddle hit her right between her legs, her clit going mad as it registered it as excruciatingly painful and excruciatingly pleasant at the same time. She thrashed under him, until he tugged at her hair harder and forced her down on the counter with his elbow.

“Now that didn’t sound _thankful_ , did it?” he taunted, his voice smug. “’Fraid that means another three for you, you disobeying little Slayer.”

Fuck fuck _fuck_ , how could his words make the pain feel delicious, her pussy empty, her clit desperate?

“Please,” she begged in a low voice before she could stop herself. “Please…”

“‘Please’… what? Punish you more? Yes, my dirty pet,” he chuckled, the paddle grazing her lower lips before rubbing at them hard. “Figure that’s exactly what you deserve.”

“Oh, oh, oonnn, _uh_!”

“Same rules apply,” he said almost conversationally, even as he rubbed her dangerously closer to orgasm with that damn thing. “Three strokes, all I want to hear is _Thank you, Sir_. Got that?” he asked, grinding harder.

“Ooh, uun, _mmrn_!”

“And another rule,” he added gleefully. “This is _punishment_ ,” he said, the paddle painfully scraping against her as he drawled the word. “But you, my bad, dirty Slayer, I can smell how close you are, all writhing in pleasure even as I _punish_ you…”

Oh God oh God oh God, how could it be so hot? How could those words and the pain in her pussy and his every fucking action be so _hot_?

“And I tell you,” he continued, leaning down against her ear, “if you dare come, I’ll have to get real serious about it. So,” he breathed in her ear, grazing her skin with a sharp fang, “you ready to be a good girl and thank me for your punishment, then?” 

God, he knew her too damn well, because she was ready to fall over the precipice, his words and his vampface and the pain and the pleasure all mixing together in a glorious sensation of _almost there_.

But she couldn’t imagine taking six more of _those_ , Slayer resistance or not, so she nodded and braced herself. And fuck if her legs didn’t want to spread wider than the bar allowed, every inch of her body ready and willing for more, until—

_THWACK!_

She bit her lip hard, until she could feel blood, but she managed to only grunt, even as her body quivered on the very edge of orgasm.

“Did you say anything, my bad Slayer?” he asked silkily, his paddle grazing her abused lips and making her bite down harder to avoid whining.

“Uh… uhnn… t-thank you, Sir,” she managed to grit out. She was rewarded by a gentle rubbing of the paddle, making her thrust back slightly, unable to stop seeking more.

“Two more like that, and maybe you’ll convince me that there’s a good girl underneath all this filthy wetness,” he rumbled, making her lose her battle against a whimper.

Goddamnit, the asshole was too hot.

She squeezed her eyes shut again as he softened his grip on her hair, gently letting her press her forehead to the counter surface. His fingers stroked the nape of her neck for a few sweet seconds, reminding her of how much he loved and cherished her underneath all their games. She smiled, then gasped when he moved the paddle back with an obscene wet noise.

“Now be a good girl and thank me.”

_THWACK!_

Buffy fought off the howl that wanted to leave her lips and clenched her jaw instead, her pussy and clit pulsing and pulsing and oh God, she was so close, so close…

“Thankyousiiir,” she grunted out, her voice huskier than she’d ever thought possible, her body trembling all over on the precipice. God, she needed time or she wasn’t gonna make it, and suddenly her heart raced at the idea of disobeying him. She actually wanted to be a good girl for her tormentor, and oh _fuck_ , the thought made her squirm harder.

“Good girl,” he said with an audible grin, and then his hand moved back, and she wasn’t ready, she needed—

_THWACK!_

The paddle hit her harder than ever and Buffy couldn’t keep in her yell anymore as she felt herself fall over the edge in unending waves of tortuous bliss. She moaned and moaned as she thrust back against the air, squeezing her muscles around nothing as her thighs uselessly fought to close despite the bar, the botched attempt somehow making her climax all the sweeter.

After what felt like the longest and shortest orgasm she’d ever had, she realised she was making weird, helpless noises, unable to keep them in. Meanwhile, Spike was tutting and tapping the paddle against her burning skin.

“T-thank you… Sir…” she rasped, her voice ragged.

He laughed. “Useless to pretend you can be good when you’re just a bad”— _smack!_ —“ _bad_ ”— _smack!_ —“Slayer.” _SMACK!_

She moaned helplessly when he hit her inner thighs, burning previously untouched skin.

“Coming when I expressly told you not to,” he taunted her, voice a silky purr. “Disobeying my orders…”

_SMACK, SMACK!_

She almost sobbed in pain, but her poor pussy kept pulsing and pulsing. God, she loved every single word he said, the way it made her crave both his punishment and his voice and his praise, and fuck, she was finally at the end of her rope; she wanted his praise, she wanted to satisfy him.

“I’m sorry, Sirnn…”

Spike laughed, his free hand stroking up her arm to her shoulder, grazing gently her still-stinging bite mark. And then he raked at it with a nail, making her gasp, even as he smacked her once more.

“So, there is some decency somewhere under all this wet filth,” he murmured, before bending and licking the throbbing skin on her neck. “What do you say to the man who’s taught you a lesson about what a bad girl you are?”

Buffy turned to look at him, so close to her face, taking a shuddering breath as every inch of her body clamoured for her attention. But his eyes were much more hypnotic.

“T-thank you… Sir,” she added when she saw his brows go up. 

“Good girl,” he murmured with a nod and a nasty smirk, and she felt her pussy clench of its own volition. 

Then he straightened, smacking her casually on the ass before leaving the paddle right under her nose on the counter. She couldn’t help but smell herself on it, and it made her knees tremble.

“Well, since you can’t stop yourself from coming while I discipline you, I’ve come up with another punishment, the ideal one for a Slayer as bad as you.” 

Buffy squirmed, cursing the effect those words had on her. He had a remarkable ability to find ones that drove her crazy yet never went too far. 

“So now you’re going to stay right here, keeping this red, wet arse up”—he smacked her hard, making her almost bounce up—“until I come back with what I’ll use on you.”

Then he patted her lightly once and left her there, panting and marveling a bit. Who would’ve thought that she’d love the idea of being punished for being a bad Slayer so damn much?

Spike, apparently. Because her jerk of a boyfriend understood her kinks better than she did, or something. Which would’ve been annoying as all hell, if it didn’t mean drunken orgasms like the ones she’d just experienced—and the ones yet to come.

She heard the rustle of a package somewhere in the store, and then Spike was back at her side, massaging her hips with his thumbs even as he pressed some leather contraption on her skin. She felt blood rush to her face—and between her legs—at the look of utter wickedness in his eyes.

“Ready for your punishment, bad little kitten?”

Speaking of lines that shouldn’t be sexy… She managed to just nod instead of making any more embarrassing noises. “Yes, Sir.”

“Mmh, good girl.” 

_Magic fucking words._

He chuckled knowingly as he fastened some kind of wide leather belt around her hips, slipping two straps down between her legs that reached from her front to her back. Then he tightened them, forcing a gasp out of her as the leather scraped around her sensitive lips and throbbing cheeks.

“Can you guess what this is, my dirty Slayer?”

“Nnh,” was the only sound she could muster as Spike stroked his fingers along the straps between her legs, maybe checking how they fit, maybe just trying to drive her mad. 

He leaned down to whisper against her ear. “’S just the perfect tool to punish filthy, bad girls like you.” Buffy made other inarticulate sounds as his fingers pressed against her clit through a conveniently placed hole in the harness. “Bad girls who can’t obey and come even when told not to…” He suddenly pinched her clit, making her fight against the bar that kept her legs spread open, then laughed. “Time for the best part, love.”

She heard more rustling, and then a wide, smooth something was pressing against her clit, in the hole of the harness-belt thingy.

When he was finally done fussing with it, he smacked the insides of her thighs hard, making her gasp. “All done, pet,” he said, rising to stand yet slipping one hand under her belly to touch whatever was pressed against her clit. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but no matter how she tried to crane her neck, she couldn’t see what it was, and—

“Aaah!” she yelped, the thing suddenly vibrating against her poor nub. She glanced at the vampire in time to see his smirk turn entirely too evil. Then his arm shifted and—“ _Uuuhnn_!” she yelled, vibrations suddenly higher, and higher, and oh God she was already so freaking close—“Oh God oh God Sir—Sir, I caaannn’t _uuuh_!”

She spasmed and spasmed as an orgasm shook her body violently, sudden and unexpected and delicious in its intensity. She almost _cried_ it was so good… but then the vibrations didn’t stop, they actually went up a notch, and then she did sob, because she couldn’t do it, she was disobeying again, she was such a _bad girl_.

“Sir Sir Siiir oh Godnnnrm!”

“Fucking music to my ears, my bad little kitten,” Spike growled, fiddling with his torture device to make it go even faster. “You wanted to come? You’re gonna keep coming, over and over again.”

“Plea _aahn_!” she yelled, the pleasure mounting once more, and then she was coming again, her body thrashing against her will. He leaned down, one hand threading in her hair, the other gripping the straps between her ass cheeks—tightening them against her even more, fuckfuck _fuck_ it was too much too much! “OhGodohGodplease,” she cried, shocked to feel actual tears form in her eyes at the delirious, uninterrupted pleasure.

And then he yanked hard at the straps, and the pleasure was mixed with pain, and she didn’t even know if she was still coming from the last orgasm or if it was a whole new one.

“Look at you,” he growled, biting at her bite mark with blunt teeth, the pain sending a pang of pleasure down to her poor clit. “You’re gonna come until you can’t take it anymore, and then you’re gonna come some more.” Then he let go of the straps, making her sigh in relief for a moment—until he spanked her ass, hard, first one cheek then the other. “Like a bitch”— _SMACK!_ —“in”— _SMACK!_ —“ _heat_ .” _SMACK!_

She wailed and wailed, completely out of control; she was his, completely at his mercy, and even as she felt she couldn’t take any more, she never wanted it to end.

He growled again, moving behind her to grip her wrists and the belt—and then he pummelled into her, the first thrust so hard and deep she came again at the force of it.

“Mmrng!”

“Fffuck that’s a tight fit,” he grunted, picking up a punishing pace. God, she could hear his balls slapping against whatever torture device was strapped to her clit, the obscene wet sounds of his cock driving in and out of her. “Yeah, you dirty bad Slayer, squeeze me tight— _nnng_!”

She laughed brokenly, because between his thrusts and the monster attached to her clit, she had absolutely zero control over her pussy’s mad clenching. And then he grunted deeply, and swirled his hips just so, and the vibrations felt even more intense—and she came again, thrashing underneath him even as he kept slamming into her.

“Take it, take it—fucking— _all_ ,” he growled, and then he was coming too, his dick deep inside her tight pussy, and she cried out as she felt herself still on that damn high wave.

“Oh, oh, _uh_ , Sir, please…”

He leaned down, his cock not even softening inside her. “Please what, my bad Slayer?”

She moaned, trying her best to think of the right words as the vibrator kept up its incessant job, and he was twitching and thrusting shallowly inside her, and God, it felt like she hadn’t even come down from her last but was already driving up again…

And then the perfect words came to her. “Please punish me,” she whined, pushing back into him.

He started thrusting in earnest then, his voice barely audible over the roaring of her heart. “And why do you need punishment?” he grunted, hips slapping against her abused skin.

“B-because I’m a bad, bad girl,” she sobbed, and her own voice saying it sent her over the edge again. She let out another wail as she flailed, but he only picked up his harsh pace, keeping her riding that wave.

“Yeah, you are,” he grunted. “Best— _nnnrm_ —fucking— _nnh_ —bad girl _ever_.”

“Fffnng!”

“Say it!”

“I’m a— _fffrnm—_ bad girl!”

“Filthy girl, _nh nh nnh_!”

“Yesyesyeeeess!”

How was she _still_ coming?

And then he jerked away from her, making her sob at the loss, and _still_ she couldn’t feel the never-ending orgasm or whatever the hell it was fading, making her whole body shudder uncontrollably.

But Spike was talking to her, his hard cock rubbing against one of her tingling ass cheeks, his lips against her ear, and she forced herself to pay attention.

“… know what you want. What is it, my dirty wench? What do you want right now, the most?”

Buffy shuddered, trying to make sense of her own thoughts—she wanted to come, she wanted not to come anymore, she wanted his hard cock in her, she wanted this to end and to never ever end…

But most importantly, she wanted to be his.

“W-Whatever you want, Sir,” she groaned finally, the words making the pleasure ratchet up again; she didn’t even know if she was still coming or not. “I’m yours.”

Spike let out a shaky breath at that, and when she looked at him for a second she saw all of his love for her. But then the wicked gleam was back.

“Then a bit more punishing’s in order, you dirty girl.”

She whimpered as he gripped both of her ass cheeks hard, his thumbs digging in and spreading the straps between her legs—forcing the vibrator harder against her abused clit and making her shudder helplessly. And then he slammed into her, sending her into yet another delirious orgasm, and she didn’t even know if she was moaning or yelling or just gasping choked sobs.

“Fucking—tight—ffnnr!”

“Nnnah!”

He thrust and thrust, spanking her ass twice more, and she was coming again, wailing beneath him. He cried brokenly above her, rutting into her until he was climaxing along with her, and his lukewarm come made her orgasm last impossibly long.

She was on the cusp of crying out _orange_ , if not _red_ , but she wanted to obey, she wanted to be a good girl for him… and then, just when she felt a small, small lull between waves of pained pleasure, Spike turned the vibrator off.

She sobbed in sheer relief, and when he laughed, she’d never felt more his, more happy and wild to be his his his.

“My brave, strong love,” Spike said, his voice husky and warm as he snapped the belt open and let it fall to the ground. She whimpered at the loss, her abused clit still pulsing painfully, but then Spike’s hand went to cover her mound, gentle and firm, and she slumped on the counter.

“You were fucking unbelievable,” he murmured, leaning down to rain kisses on her exposed spine, the top having ridden up all the way to her shoulders without her noticing. She just hummed tiredly as he kept kissing her feverish back, his cool lips a balm, his warmed hand on her pussy making her feel anchored.

Then he slowly slipped out of her, making her moan and wonder whether she missed his presence or was thankful for the blessed lack of stimulation. His hand could cup her completely now, strong and warm and _there_ , and she slumped again, grateful as she sighed.

“God, I can’t believe how good you were,” Spike murmured, his voice still low and soothing and so, so warm. “You’re the best sodding woman in existence,” he continued, his left hand fumbling with the chains on her wrists. “I love you so much, you wonderful woman. Best Slayer on the planet, best Slayer who ever existed…”

As soon as he'd managed to free her completely she brought a hand down, cupping his over her sex for a moment before threading their fingers together.

“Love you,” she murmured, cheek squished against the counter, a puddle of strung-out Buffy.

“God, I love you so much, my brilliant Valkyrie,” he said, trailing kisses up her spine, over her top, until he got to her neck, where he kissed and licked and nipped, giving her bite mark the gentlest attentions, and she sighed deeply again. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, baby,” he whispered before kissing up her neck, her jaw, to her slack lips. “I love you, I love you.”

“Mmn,” she answered, too tired to respond much to his kisses.

He smiled against her lips. “Gimme a second and I’ll get you sorted, love.”

She whined as he retreated, his right hand squeezing her fingers once before letting her go. When she blinked her eyes open, it was to see him shedding his clothes at lightning speed. Just the idea of him wanting to make love again, even sweet and tender love, had her hand go back to cupping her sex.

He let out a tiny laugh and shook his head. “Just want you to feel my skin as I hold you,” he reassured her, reaching behind the counter for a package of tissues and a bottle of water. He set them down and then unbuckled the spreader bar from between her legs, the newfound freedom making them tremble. “Come here, my lovely,” he whispered then, gently taking off her thoroughly drenched panties and moving her off the counter.

She moaned as her back and legs and everything complained loudly, but Spike was taking her clothes off and she realised how much more freely she could breathe. Then he picked her up and sat them both down against the counter, her on his lap with her tingling butt mostly in the air.

Slipping a hand between her legs, solid and gentle, he cleaned her with the tissues, and she buried her face in his neck.

“Love you so much,” he murmured as he cleaned her. “You bold, wonderful woman. You were so amazing. Never gonna deserve your love, not ever.”

“Shut up,” she murmured, lips squished against his skin. “I love who I want.”

He chuckled, kissing her temple softly. “’Course you do, my love.”

She tried nodding into his neck, but just managed to mush her face more effectively against it. Oh well.

He kept up his steady stream of praise and love as he finished cleaning her, then he brought the bottle to her mouth and she realised she was _parched_. She drank and drank, until she couldn’t take any more water, and his firm hand went down to cup her again.

“I love you,” she sighed into his neck, finally finding the strength to leave little kisses on it.

“I love you too,” he said, lips against her temple. 

And then they were shifting, lips roaming each other’s faces until they met. They kissed languidly… slow, soft, lovely kisses that left her feeling even drunker than before—and even more in love with him.

His free hand roamed her back, soft and warm on her skin, until it came up to her hair. He threaded his fingers in it, massaging softly until she moaned into his mouth.

She let her hands slide up on his body, his chest and his back, suddenly happy he’d stripped. She couldn’t remember if she’d told him about that, that the best part of their games was the way they held each other afterwards, skin to skin; it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she had the best boyfriend in the world, and she wanted to kiss him till kingdom come.

Eventually, she had to come up for air, and they rested their foreheads against each other, breathing deeply on each other’s mouth.

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you, God, I love you,” she murmured. When she opened her eyes to look at him, his radiant smile warmed her up from the inside.

“Baby, you’re so damn good to me,” he purred, nuzzling her forehead with his. “Please tell me if I went too far.”

She gave a helpless little laugh, shaking her head slightly without breaking their contact. “It was crazy. But God, I love it when you drive me crazy.”

“You sure?” he murmured, looking at her. “Don’t wanna hurt you, baby. Or, well, not in a way you don’t love,” he added, his fingers brushing over her sex.

She sighed, closing her eyes and shifting her legs a tiny bit wider. “Let’s just say that I’ll be out of commission for a while, but I’m very happy about it.” She snickered tiredly. “So happy. You gave me way too many happies.”

He snorted, lying down and bringing her on top of him. Then he sighed deeply too, caressing her gently, making her entire body tingle in pleasure regardless of the discomforts and pains.

It didn’t matter. Ultimately, nothing mattered as much as the way they just fit. So what if her kinks were a bit crazy? He was there, ready to explore them with her, ready to hold her close and anchor her to reality when the two of them came down from their games. Ready to love her again and again, day after day, no matter what.

She suddenly wished they were in their new apartment already. She wished she could go to sleep in his arms knowing he’d wake her up with chocolate and her favourite cheese in bed, cuddling her into tomorrow, and that they’d take care of each other until the remnants of today’s scenes were completely behind them.

 _Scratch that_ , she thought, nuzzling his chest. _We’re gonna take care of each other until the end of our lives. And even if that’s terrifying, I wanna believe it; I love him too much, and I know he loves me too much, to let this go._

She smiled at the thought of the two of them staying together against all odds. Yeah, it was still scarier than most apocalypses; but hadn’t they proven that they could and would fight for each other? Again and again? They could win this fight too. Together.

She raised her head from his chest. He was already gazing at her and smiling, one of his hands caressing her hair.

“I love you.”

He smiled even more. “I love you too.”

Grinning happily, she settled back down on his chest.

They were going to be all right.

*

They spent the last few hours cuddling and quietly talking about inane things, from the colour of the drapes they’d choose for their place—Buffy would _never_ let him pick black, no matter how ‘convenient’ it was for the sunlight—to Spike’s last police case—he muttered something about Chaos demons being ‘bloody tossers who touched other men’s women’ and she did _not_ want to know.

All the while, they hardly ever stopped touching each other, the contact grounding them both. Even when she started shivering and he insisted on them getting dressed again (“Slayer, if you catch a cold because you were too lazy to move, I’m gonna tell everyone how _that_ happened”), they still helped each other, hands roaming and caressing. And then Spike sat with his back against the counter and she melted back onto his lap.

They stayed like that for a long time, chatting and nuzzling, until Spike looked to the door of the shop.

“Owner’s coming, kitten.”

She hummed softly, kissing his neck. “As comfy as you are, I’m glad we’re getting back home. God, I want a bed…”

He smiled at her, eyes soft, and stroked her cheek. “Wanna come to my place?”

“Please,” she said, leaning in his hand. “I want Spike cuddles and kitty cuddles and tasty cheese.” Which he always had a generous supply of, more often than she did herself, because she was the luckiest woman in the world.

“Works out fine, then, seeing as I want Buffy cuddles, and kitty cuddles, and a hot chocolate with marshmallows.” Which they both always had a generous supply of, because he was the luckiest vampire in the world, but also very attentive when it came to his own treats.

She grinned. And then she sighed, because in order to have all that she actually had to get up, which, ugh.

“All that, plus a gallon of blood,” Spike grunted, standing up and bringing her to her feet as well. “Bloody starved.”

Buffy circled his waist with her arms. “You could have taken some of my blood.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know I love drinking your blood in bed, pet, but you’re no buffet.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose. “I’ll be all right. Let’s just gather up our new toys and be on our way, yeah?”

In the end, she couldn’t help but pay for a couple of them, because really, twelve was a bit much to get for free, even if the owner had seemed too shocked to really mind.

“Think we should get trapped into sex stores more often, kitten,” Spike said as they walked back home hand in hand.

“I _think_ that if we get any more toys, we’re gonna need a room just for them.”

“Ooh, lovely idea,” he purred, leaning down to gently nip at her bite mark.

“Down, boy,” she said with a smile. “We can’t afford that and you know it.”

“Fuck, pet, if _that_ ’s the problem, I can find money!”

“Spike, you know what I think about kitten poker. And besides, what would the cats think?”

Spike chuckled and tugged her closer, leaning his head on hers. “Hush, woman.”

“I won’t have traumatised cats in my home.” She could feel him smiling against her temple, which sent little tingles of pleasure down to her belly. “Besides, Xander would be furious. And horrified.”

“Xander would take bloody notes. You know he and Dawn—”

“And _that_ ’s where the conversation ends, mister.”

Spike chuckled again, because he had no sense of proper disgust for the thought of friends and family doing… whatever would be done in such a room. Although now that she thought about getting Spike in a place like that, a place where he’d be the perfect slave to her every need…

She pushed the thoughts away, to be revisited when the pulsing between her legs was no longer so uncomfortable.

“Can’t believe you manage to be a bit of a prude even after all that, love.”

“I’m not a prude,” she protested. “I just have _boundaries_.”

“Overrated,” he said with a shrug.

She shook her head, but when he grinned at her, she couldn’t help a grin of her own. Because she was ridiculous when she was in love, and he was ridiculous always, and they were probably ridiculous together, looking at each other like a besotted couple on their first date when they’d been together for over two years.

But then, she didn’t care. She’d found that with him, she didn’t mind being freaky, kinky, or ridiculous. With Spike, Buffy managed to be happy no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Too kinky? Not kinky enough? SHOULD SPIKE HAVE TAKEN PICTURES FOR REAL??  
> I hope you had a good time. :D


End file.
